


(When You're) Home

by monticelllo



Series: Paciencia y Fe [1]
Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-25 13:52:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6197542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monticelllo/pseuds/monticelllo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Graffiti Pete and Sonny both refuse to acknowledge their love for eachother, except for when they're heavily intoxicated. Drama ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This site lacks Graffiti Pete/Sonny fanfic. I'm here to change this.  
> Ok, so this might seem a bit abrupt, but I promise it gets better. In the whole work, be prepared for internalized homophobia, hurt/comfort, and a whole bunch of gay. I thank the Freckletits for tolerating this BS ;-)

Graffiti Pete had always known that Sonny wouldn’t stay. Sonny had dreams. He was determined to change the world someday, one way or another. His aspirations reached far from the barrio, far from Washington Heights, far from Abuela Claudia’s stoop and Usnavi’s rickety bodega. Graffiti Pete knew it was selfish of him to expect Sonny to stay behind, to sacrifice all his opportunities for their corner of the city. Pete didn’t know why he missed him so much, nor did he know why he cared.

No, he had never been the chatty type. He didn’t talk much, he didn’t get so attached to a small group of friends. For some reason, though, Sonny meant a lot to him. He always felt some sort of pang in his heart when he saw him, a feeling he couldn’t quite put his finger on, that he chose to ignore. It was strange. It was uncomfortable. He would instead elect to spend his time with Julio from the liquor store, but his company just wasn’t the same. Sometimes he would hang out with Jose, as well. Julio and Jose couldn’t be in a room together—they’d either start arguing over something petty or shove their tongues down eachother’s throats. This made Graffiti Pete thoroughly uncomfortable. Alas, they were good drinking buddies, and they were always down for vandalizing an empty wall. 

When nobody was around to socialize with, Graffiti Pete would engross himself in his artwork. He remembered how somebody could offer him five-hundred dollars for a commission and he would find himself speechless, whereas Sonny would always demand a higher price. For some reason, Sonny cared. It came in handy, though—with all the commission money, he managed to save up enough cash to buy himself a tiny apartment neighboring Abuela Claudia’s—the one that Usnavi had moved into after her passing away. 

Graffiti Pete loved springtime. He loved the warm weather, the cloudless skies, the sweet taste of piragua, the sunlight that illuminated his paintings in just the right way. Most of all, he loved that spring meant spring break, and spring break meant Sonny was coming home from college for a week. Sonny was coming home today. Everyone knew it. Everyone was rising early to clean their homes, to brew his favorite coffee, to exchange excited, hushed whispers that could be heard through the thin walls. The ‘OPEN’ sign on the Bodega illuminated a bit earlier today.

In fact, the Bodega was where Graffiti Pete was headed. The sun was only just rising, the air was cool and crisp. The familiar ‘eek, eek’ of the piragua cart rang through the hushed town, accompanied by the cheery calls of “Ice cold piragua!” Graffiti Pete could see Daniela and Carla headed to the salon, Kevin on his way to the dispatch booth, Nina and Vanessa on their way to the bodega for wake-up coffee. In fact, Vanessa was sporting a rather flattering pair of yoga pants today. Not known for being particularly chivalrous, Pete grinned and let a loud wolf-whistle escape his lips, earning him a fierce glare from the ladies.

Adjusting his snapback and pulling his bag of spray-cans up his shoulder, he pushed the doors open and entered, feeling welcomes by the familiar smell of light-and-sweet coffee and the sound of the radio playing the news. Even with the money he got from the lotto, Usnavi hadn’t fixed the place up much. Sure, he’d gotten new hardwood for the floors, patched up the holes in the walls, and got a working cash register, but it was otherwise the same. 

“Morning, Graffiti Pete.” Usnavi said, flashing him a half smile. “Coffee, or just coke?”

"Yo. Coke would be nice. It’s hot outside.” He responded gruffly, an ever-present grin on his face as the Dominican tossed him a cold bottle.

“Not a problem. Pull up your pants, dumbass.” 

In response, Pete lazily pulled up his waistband and sat down with Benny, near the radio. He had a couple of lotto tickets in his hoodie pocket.

“Heard from Sonny?” He asked, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and turning to Pete, eyebrows raised in questioning. 

“Nope. He’s probably on his way back from the city right now.” He smiled, taking a gulp from his coke.

At that, Vanessa entered. Pete wondered briefly if Nina had switched directions and gone to the salon.

“Buenos dias, Vanessa!” Usnavi grinned, passing the girl a complementary cup of café con leche.

“Morning, ‘Navi! Hey, have any of you heard from Sonny? We’re having some kind of welcome home party for him, right? That’s what you guys did for me when I came back after graduation.”

Pete shrugged, turning to flash a wink at her. 

“We could hit up the club or somethin’. Take him to watch the fireworks. Kid’s gotta be exhausted. Learning is hell, babe.” He teased, fiddling with his hoodie string. The ‘babe’ part caused Usnavi to give him a glare even harsher than the previous one from Vanessa.

“Sounds cool. I’ll tell Nina. Speaking of home, Vanessa, how long are you gonna be here for? I know you’re not sticking around forever.” Benny chuckled.

“Till summer, then I’m going back to the city. Can’t stand this place when it’s hot.” With that, Vanessa sat on the small love seat opposite to them, taking a deep sip of her café con leche.

They all sat in silence for a minute, wondering. Their little, rag-tag family was growing up. Unlike before Abuela’s death, every day was different. Things were new. Things changed. It was absurd, but it was something they would all have to learn to live with.

Sighing heartily, Pete smacked on his grin again and shoved his coke into his spray-can bag can, heading for the exit.

“See ya’ll. I’ve gotta go to work. Thanks for the coke, Usnavi!” He said, smiling wider when he heard Usnavi exclaim;

“Don’t you vandalize another one of my walls!”

His tone was not threatening anymore.   
__________________

Nina had, in fact, taken a detour to the salon. Sitting on a lounge chair and watching Daniela and Carla at work, her mind was racing. Benny had been acting strange lately. Sonny was coming home. 

Daniela was going back to the city soon. Vanessa and Usnavi were engaged. There was so much going on!

Sonny’s return may provide much-needed release to all of the changes, but even that would be strange. Nobody at the barrio was blind. They saw the way he looked at Graffiti Pete, how they bumped shoulders when they walked, how he trailed Pete around the city as he painted. All their hearts broke for Sonny, who may as well be in love with a straight man. They all knew for a fact that Graffiti Pete wasn’t gay.

Daniela and Carla were relishing in the gossip. As they tidied up in preparation for customers and for Sonny’s presence, they were chattering like birds about poor Sonny’s unrequited love for Pete, about Usnavi and Vanessa’s engagement, about Sonny in general.

“Vanessa told me that Usnavi looked shocked when she said yes. Heard you could hear the bed creaking all night, they were so loud!” Daniela chirped, lips curling into an amused smirk as she scrubbed a sink. 

“I heard that they’ve been engaged for a month, but didn’t have the guts to tell until now.” Carla added, giggling. “They’re so cute.”

Daniela turned her gaze to Nina, grinning coyly.

“Nina, dear, when do you think Benny will pop the question?” She cooed, raising her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

Nina hadn’t thought about this. Benny had never seemed to be interested in settling down, starting a family. She’d told herself that she agreed with him, that she didn’t want to commit.

“Soon.” She lied, smacking on a plastic smile. “Soon, I hope.”

Maybe her smile hadn’t looked so real after all. Daniela sat down across from her, brows furrowing worriedly.

“That sounds fake. What’s going on?” 

“Nina, you know that if anything is going on, you can come stay with us. You know that, right?” Carla piped in

Taken off guard, Nina spilled.

“I don’t know, guys. He’s been coming home late, and sometimes he doesn’t come back till the morning! I don’t know what his deal is.” She said, sighing.  
Daniela shook her head disapprovingly. 

“Girl, I don’t think the size of his dick is gonna make up for acting like one. Talk to him! And come stay with us for a night or two. Show him you mean business.” She lectured, nodding decidedly.

Nina’s smile wasn’t fake this time.  
_________________________

Traffic on Saturday noon in the city could be ridiculous, but Sonny dealt. Pushing his way through a throng of taxis and tourists, he’d managed to make it back to Washington Heights by 5pm. The sun was only beginning to set. The air was cool, the bodega was closing, the piragua cart was retreating into the distance.

Home. God, he didn’t know how much he missed this place.

Carefully hopping out of his worn-down rental car, he glanced around the area for a few seconds. Not much had changed. Three out of four of the bodega’s walls were still decked out in artful graffiti, and Abuela Claudia’s birds still perched on her stoop.

Smiling widely, he ran a hand through his thick hair and began walking toward the rear of Usnavi’s bodega. That was the only empty wall left in the place, and it was probably where Graffiti Pete was finishing up his painting for the day.

God, he loved him so fucking much, and nobody could know. They couldn’t know. Usnavi still disapproved of Graffiti Pete, he assumed. Not to mention how all his friends would feel if he came out? He knew it could be potentially dangerous. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he rounded the corner to see if he was there.

Lo and behold, there he was, balancing on a trashcan to reach the high points of the wall, well-muscled arms stained with paint. He was so engrossed in his art that he didn’t see Sonny coming. God, he was so pretty like this, paint-stained and sweaty, brows furrowed in such concentration on the task at hand. It was frustrating. He sighed softly, cleared his throat, and said;

“Pete? Pete, yo, it’s me.”

The artist froze for a second, turning to look at him. He grinned after a brief moment of shock, and his eyes lit up in a way Sonny had never seen before.

“Sonny, yo! You’re back! You didn’t tell anybody when you were coming home, man!” Hopping off of the rickety trashcan he’d been standing on, Pete gave a happy laugh and pulled Sonny into a not-so-manly embrace. Sonny could honestly feel his face turn red at the contact, and he smiled shyly, stepping back,

“Sorry man, my phone broke. Didn’t want to pay to use one of those public ones, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, true. Hey, we’re hitting the club tonight to celebrate. You staying with Usnavi while you’re here? We oughta head to the club soon anyway. We’ll surprise ‘em, yeah?” 

Sonny took notice that Pete was very excited about his return. He never talked this much.

“Yeah, man, let’s go.” He responded, his shy smile turning into a happy one.

“Cool, cool.”

Pete packed up his cans and began walking in the direction of the club, not bothering to fix his appearance. Sonny followed eagerly. Their shoulders bumped subtly while they walked.  
______________________

With Sonny here, it felt like old times. There were teary reunions, laughs at inside jokes, stories exchanged about what had gone on in his absence. Even the piraguero welcomed him back with joy, giving him a free scoop of cherry piragua, his favorite. 

A small crowd had gathered around them at the club. Pete was sticking close to Sonny, paying for his drinks with left-over commission money. In fact, Sonny seemed to be loving the attention.

“Sonny! Did ya meet any girls in the city?” Benny asked, winking and giggling.

Sonny’s face reddened visibly, and he gave a coy laugh.

“Uhh, none that stayed, man. It’s too bad.”

Everyone in their small group sighed sadly, all still smiling. Usnavi leaned forward and carefully adjusted Sonny’s baseball cap.

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s ‘cause you can’t dress right, kid!” He scolding was friendly. Sonny let out a hearty laugh.

“You don’t get to talk, man! You won the lotto and you still dress like a hoodrat!”

They all laughed at this, and Vanessa grinned, leaning over to Usnavi to whisper something Pete couldn’t catch. Usnavi nodded.

“Sonny, we’ve got good news.” She said, eyes glittering with mischief and excitement.

“Yeah, what’s that?” Sonny asked, tilting his head in questioning.

Vanessa paused dramatically for a moment before exclaiming, “ Me and Usnavi are engaged!”

Sonny looked shocked. His big, doe-like eyes widened and he cracked a grin.

“That’s great! God damn, Usnavi, what did you do to deserve this girl Hell, she’s way too cool for you.” He teased, earning another bout of laughter from the crowd.

Pete was relieved that Usnavi didn’t seem annoyed with his presence at the moment. In fact, it seemed as if Graffiti Pete’s paying for Sonny’s drinks was making up for all of the bullshit he’d supposedly done before. 

The pair were increasingly drunk, though, and the crowd was growing louder and louder. He could tell that Sonny’s head was hurting, as was his own.

“Sonny, you wanna go somewhere more quiet, man?” He leaned over and whispered to the boy when the others had retreated to the dance floor.

Sonny nodded. Smiling, they both stood up and stumbled toward the exit.  
_________________

It was late, maybe midnight, and the pair had clumsily ascended the stairs up to Graffiti Pete’s apartment.

Sonny didn’t know how he got here. It was a blur, as it was for Graffiti Pete, as well. They were both more than a little buzzed. From what Sonny could gather, he was pressed against a wall, lips pressed hard against those of Pete’s.

What in the hell?

He was going to say something, ask if Pete was okay, ask if any of this was real. It occurred to him then that he’d, admittedly, fantasized about this since they met. Maybe he ought to just enjoy the moment.

Snapping out of his nebulous state of pondering, he kissed Pete back forcefully, muttering incoherently as he did. Pete stepped back and motioned to Sonny’s shirt.

“Take that off.” He instructed. Sonny nodded and did as he was told, jumping and letting out a soft whine when Graffiti Pete began to plant soft kisses along his neck, down his chest and to his stomach, till he dropped to his knees and began fiddling with Sonny’s zipper.

“Fuck, Peter, can you hold on for a second. Please.” He asked, taking hold of Pete’s snapback to get his attention. He looked up at Sonny questioningly.

“Yeah?” He asked, finally managing to get the zipper down with his shaky hands.

“Are you sure about this?” 

“That’s a dumbass question.” He responded gruffly, pulling Sonny’s pants down and pressing soft, insistent kisses to his thighs, earning another low whine.

“Peter?” His voice was shaky now.

“Yeah?” He stopped again, tugging expectantly on Sonny’s briefs.

“Be gentle, please?”

They would both have a thousand questions the next morning, but for now, they chose not to think about it.


	2. Look at the Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny and Graffiti Pete both have a lot to say, but neither of them knows how to say it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention this!: Appearance-wise, you could read Sonny as either Anthony Ramos or Robin de Jesus. Graffiti Pete's appearance will be that of Seth Stewart.
> 
> Alright, so, I got really excited about writing this all of a sudden and now there's a second chapter, posted the same day as the first God, I hope I can hold this inspiration.

The sun pushed its way through the thin blinds of Graffiti Pete’s apartment, shining on the two sleeping figures huddled together under his paint-stained, unkept sheets. Sonny was the first to rise, his weary eyes opening then shutting tightly once again when the light dared to hit them. Letting out a groan, he sat up and took a glance about his surroundings.

A once-white wall was sprayed over in a variety of bright colors. Pete probably used this wall to test how the paint looked on brick. There were paint swatches, unwashed clothes, and a plethora of old, empty spraycans everywhere.

It took Sonny a few moments to realize where he was.

What happened last night was real. 

Eyes widening, he turned over to see Pete, still fast asleep, a content smile on his face. Their clothes were tossed about the room in an uncaring manner. It began to sink in that Sonny had had sex with Graffiti Pete. Judging by his throbbing headache and churning stomach, they were probably drunk. A few very important, worrisome things occurred to him.

The first was that Sonny was supposed to stay with Usnavi. He must be worried sick, and suspicious, to say the least. The second was that Pete’s neighbors were Daniela and Carla, and Sonny knew that he was loud. He always had been. The third was that they were drunk. This could mean a multitude of things. It could mean that Graffiti Pete really did love him, and couldn’t keep it inside anymore. It could also mean that Graffiti Pete was acting irrationally, and didn’t actually care about him at all. What if this was a one-night occasion? 

Sonny was not a rational kid, and he honestly didn’t know what to do. The only thing he could think of was to put his clothes on, take some advil, and go to the bodega for coffee, as usual. 

And that’s exactly what he did. Before he went to leave, he went to the bathroom to inspect his appearance.

His hair was messy, and there was a telltale trail of bruises trailing down from his jaw to his chest, mostly around the crook of his neck. Shit, he didn’t have a scarf. Grumbling, he looked around at the unwashed clothes littering Pete’s floor, picked out a sweatshirt, and pulled the hoodie up in a mediocre attempt to hide the marks.

Good. This would work. He turned to look at Pete once more before he left. He was still asleep, with a small, content smile on his face. Sonny’s heart ached as he left.  
_______________________

The chatter at the salon was juicy today.

Vanessa, Nina, Carla, and Daniela had all gathered in a small circle, whispering excitedly about last night’s happenings. 

“You know, Sonny vanished so early last night. I wonder where he went.” Carla said softly, in that worried tone of voice that she so often spoke in.

“Carla, dear, where do you think he went? Carla, if you’d been paying attention, you would know.”

Nina, who had stayed with them the previous night, knew all too well, as did Daniela.

“Carla, Sonny and Graffiti Pete came home from the club and went at it all night. I’m shocked you didn’t hear. Only Sonny could make girly noises like that, and the floorboards were creaking.” Nina lectured, grinning.

“Carajo, Graffiti Pete never struck me as the type to like dudes. Sonny, maybe, but not Pete.” Vanessa pitched in, eyebrows raised. “They were probably both drunk.”

Carla looked confused, but she nodded in agreement.

“Well, as long as they’re happy together, you know?” She said, smiling dreamily.

“I wonder what Usnavi will say when he finds out. You all know how he feels about Pete.” Nina sighed, shaking her head. “I hope he doesn’t take it out on them.”

All the girls nodded their heads, falling into a thoughtful silence.

“Damn, I wonder what Graffiti Pete’s packin’ down there. I’d never thought about it before.” Daniela mused, earning her a good bout of laughter from all the other girls. 

The day didn’t go on as usual. For the first time, things were beginning to change in the barrio.  
_________________

Graffiti Pete didn’t go to the bodega this morning. He knew that Sonny probably had to think before they talked next, that maybe he was embarrassed. He wanted nothing more than to just talk it out with the kid, but he was aware that, while they both thoroughly enjoyed the experience, it could lead to a lot of self-questioning, and self-questioning meant space.

Graffiti Pete typically wasn’t this considerate, but after last night, it had dawned on him that he wasn’t straight. He had feelings for Sonny. In some ways, the thought made his stomach churn with nerves. What would everyone else think? What would Usnavi do if he found out? On the other hand, he felt at peace now that he was sure of his feelings. Now he just had to figure out how to express them.

Art imitates life, he thought. Life imitates art.

He’d retreated to the back of the bodega once again and begun painting, when he noticed Sonny walk by out of his peripheral vision. He smiled a bit.

“Sonny! Morning, dude.” He said with false cheer.

Sonny stared at him for a few seconds before he smiled and waved. He didn’t say a word. Pete watched with a sinking heart as he dumped a trash bag into the dumpster and retreated back into the grocery store, still wordless.

Was he angry? Was he embarrassed? Ashamed, even? Graffiti Pete didn’t know what to do.

He returned to his artwork. He’d noticed that Sonny wore a hoodie to cover the lovebites he’d left. He hadn’t bothered to cover up the bruises along his own neck.  
________________

Usnavi knew Sonny very well, and he knew when something was off.

The kid was acting unbearably strange, practically wordless as he worked. Usnavi knew that Sonny only worked willingly when he was trying to get his mind off of something, and he hadn’t heard a word of complaint from the boy since he showed up early in the morning to help with tidying up. He barely chatted with Benny, he didn’t whine about taking the trash out. It was absurd, and Usnavi was worried. His first assumption was that Sonny could be missing the city. Things moved slower in the heights, and it could, admittedly, be boring compared to the overwhelming business in the city. Usnavi knew that this probably wasn’t an accurate theory, as Sonny had grown up here, and this was his home. Sonny loved Washington Heights and everyone who lived there.

His second assumption directly accused Graffiti Pete. He didn’t know what Graffiti Pete could have done, but he felt like it must’ve been something. The whole barrio knew about Sonny’s infatuation with the aloof graffiti artist, and it seemed like a valid concern that Pete may have found some way to break Sonny’s poor heart.

Usnavi didn’t want to fuel gossip, though, so he decided to make small talk when the kid returned to help with brewing coffee.

“Sonny, tell me about the city! You know I’ve never been downtown.” He said softly, smiling as he passed a lotto ticket to Kevin, who went to sit with Camila for a moment before he had to retreat to the dispatch booth.

“It’s so loud, cuz. So much is always happening. Prob’ly a million things to do there, and I ain’t done half of it.” He responded. He seemed relieved that Usnavi wasn’t asking about anything particularly personal.

“How are your classes? What’s your roommate like?”

Sonny thought about that for a second before answering.

“Pretty cool. Political Science and Social Economics are fun. And my roommate is chill—he usually comes home late. Not interested in politics. He’s more of a sports-and-video games guy, you know?”   
He said, pulling his hoodie down slightly as to guard his neck. Usnavi’s brows furrowed a bit at the small, protective movement.

“It’s good to hear that everything’s going well. Hey, why don’t you go say hi to the ladies at the salon? I’m sure they’d love to chat.” He suggested.

Sonny looked about to object, but he shut his mouth and nodded, heading for the door.  
______________________

Sonny didn’t want to stop working. It took his mind off things. Alas, he knew for a fact that if he demanded to keep helping out, Usnavi would know that something is wrong, and Sonny hated when people felt sorry for him. So, he obediently went on his way to the salon, where there was sure to be gossip that didn’t concern him in the slightest. He’d forgotten that Daniela and Carla lived in the apartment below Graffiti Pete’s, and that he most certainly was not quiet during intercourse, and the walls were certainly not thick, as to block out noise.

Nobody at the salon was actually getting their hair done today, but the girls remained, sitting on love seats with their feet kicked up on the coffee table, chattering about boys. Straight boys. The topic of his own sexual identity made Sonny nervous in itself.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked. He tried not to flinch when they all took quick, not-so-subtle gazes at his hoodie. He adjusted it and smiled.

“Nothin’ much. Take a seat, kid! Tell us about the city. School. All that fun junk.” Vanessa said, motioning to the padded chair across from her. He sat and began to talk absentmindedly, doing his best to sway the conversation from his nonexistent love life in any way possible.

“Not much cool stuff goin’ on right now. Political Science is my favorite class. My roommate is kinda a druggie, but he’s chill. The city is big and loud and there’s a lot of stuff to do that I haven’t done.” He practically repeated everything he told Usnavi.

“You takin’ care of yourself out there? We worry, ya know. You’re still our baby boy.” Daniela chirped, big eyes softening. She was so sweet when she wanted to be.

He then remembered that they live a floor under Graffiti Pete. Damn, the floorboards must have creaked so loud. They didn’t even make it to the bed.

“Uh, yeah, for the most part, I guess. Haven’t gotten mugged yet, haven’t passed out. Ya know. I came back in one piece.” He answered halfheartedly, increasingly nervous since he came to the previously mentioned revelation. They were probably uncomfortable.

They probably knew.

This thought startled him a lot. Knowing them, they would tell somebody. Everybody would know what a disappointment he was, getting drunk and banging a punk like Pete. 

This was a disaster.

“Um, sorry, ladies, but I’ve gotta go. Check up on Usnavi and stuff, right? Make sure everythin’s goin’ smooth at the bodega. Good to see you.” He said quickly, turning to leave abruptly.

He could almost feel their concerned gazes on his back as he vanished.  
_____________________

Benny wasn’t expecting a visitor. He wasn’t working the dispatch today, so he was just sitting at home and, for the most part, napping. His days off were blissful. He had, in fact, just woken up when he heard a hard knock on the door. 

It was Sonny,

“Hey, kid, what’s up?” He asked, smiling widely and letting the boy in. He looked nervous, jittery, almost.

“Benny, we’ve gotta talk. I didn’t know who to talk to. Usnavi would hate me. The ladies would gossip about it. I just need you to listen. Please. Please don’t hate me.” He pleaded.

This wasn’t like Sonny. Sonny never worried, he didn’t burst into people’s homes, practically in tears, begging for help. As the oldest in their small group, he felt the need to take care of the boy, as Usnavi did. This was the least he could do.

“Yeah, of course, kid. Sit down, spill your beans, and I’ll make you some coffee. Hah, see what I did there? Beans? Coffee?” He was trying very hard to lighten the mood.

And Sonny did spill. He told Benny of his long-hidden crush on Graffiti Pete (Benny was not surprised), he told about how he was scared that the rest of the barrio would hate him if they knew, and most importantly, that the two had had drunken sex the previous night. This didn’t surprise Benny much, either. They’d both vanished at around midnight, and they didn’t bother to say their goodbyes. By the time he was finished ranting and Benny was finished making coffee, Sonny was in tears. This was also not like him, because nobody had ever seen Sonny cry.

Sighing softly, the older man went to sit next to the kid, sliding an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close.

“Wanna tell me why you think everybody would hate you, kid? You know that nobody here could ever hate you. I don’t know what we ever did to make you think that we didn’t care.” He said softly.

Sonny sighed and seemed to relax his muscles, taking a deep sip of his coffee and beginning to speak in a much less hysterical manner.

“You guys didn’t do anything, but let’s be honest, Benny. If everybody knew about this, they’d all look at me different. You know it. And you know how ‘Navi feels about Pete.”

Benny furrowed his brow. These were valid concerns, but he doubted that anybody would love him any less. Now, Usnavi’s disapproval of Pete? That could be a problem. 

“Well, you like girls, right?”

Sonny nodded. “Yeah.”

“And you like boys, right?”

He nodded again. “Yeah.”

“Well, leave it at that. Don’t overthink this.” Benny said. He was about to say more when Sonny continued.

“Benny, we were both drunk. He probably doesn’t even care now. He probably never even liked me. Drunk people do wild shit. This coulda just been a one-night thing, ya know? That’s what I’m scared of. I’m afraid that I love him and he doesn’t really even love me.”

Benny couldn’t find a clever response for that.


	3. A Million Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get some much-needed advice. Only one of them listens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SO SO SORRY.  
> I also feel really bad bc I feel like it's very badly written and idk. Chapter four will be better I promise, just hang in there w/ me. :-(

Washington Heights was quiet in the mornings. Graffiti Pete typically wasn’t awake to appreciate the silence, but today, he was.  
He’d barely slept the previous night, which was abnormal for him. He knew that Sonny was ignoring him, for some reason. He wasn’t used to feeling this lonely. This wasn’t “I’m alone and nobody is here” lonely, this was “Somebody I love is here but I’m still alone” lonely, and he didn’t like it one bit. Per usual, he was engrossing himself in his art. Usnavi was going to hate him for painting over his only, previously graffiti-free wall, but it was for a good cause.

As he had the morning before, Sonny came out back to dump the trash. Graffiti Pete observed that he was much less tense. He still seemed withdrawn, but he didn’t walk with such an unusual stiffness anymore.

“Morning, Sonny.” Pete said softly, quickly pulling up the grate in an attempt to hide what he was painting. He usually loved when Sonny critiqued his art, but not this time.

“Morning, Pete.” He replied. His smile was significantly less forced. This came as a relief to Graffiti Pete.

Still, though, their brief exchange didn’t compare to the long, drabbling conversations they usually had each morning. It didn’t compare to Sonny trailing behind him as he painted, or listening to the radio together, or snacking on piragua to keep from being overwhelmed by the heat of the summer.

Graffiti Pete almost never dropped his thuggish, hypermasculine guise. Maybe it really was just who he was. All he knew was that the smartest men in the world were artists, and he was an artist, and in some ways, that meant he was smart.

And smart people figured things out on their own. He could fix this. He just had to think, for once.

He wondered if all smart people felt an absurd hammering in their chest when they made eye contact with the ones that they love. Maybe they did, or maybe he just wasn’t smart.

He didn’t know, and he told himself that he didn’t care.  
___________________

Nina took a long time to get ready in the morning, and she truly hoped this wouldn’t be a burden on Daniela and Carla while she roomed with them.

Her routine was long, partially because she had to shave. Along her chin, down her jaw, a few patches on her chest and stomach, and, of course, her legs. She applied a hefty amount of makeup, and would fix her hair, which she’d grown out tediously over so many years, very carefully. Her style of choice was a messy bun or a side braid, whatever would make her face look rounder and softer.

Nina had an excessive amount of text messages this morning. Of course, she got a “Good morning!” and a kissy face emoji from her parents daily, but today, she had quite a few from Benny.

She had two reasons for blowing him off.

1\. She was going back to Stanford in only a month or two, and she wanted to soften the blow. She didn’t want to see his heart broken when she left.  
2\. He’d been going away a lot, almost every other night. She knew for a fact that he wasn’t cheating on her, but she did know that he was probably out drinking with Usnavi, and she was not a fan of alcohol. Sometimes she wondered if this was selfish of her.

She was not angry, she was just concerned.

In fact, she could say the same about Sonny. She had always been good at watching, and she had noticed that something was off. Those two had always been GraffitiPeteAndSonny. She’d known for so long, of course, that they’d been pining after eachother, but they both seemed oblivious to the other’s advances. Now, though, she had a confirmation that they really did care for eachother, and she wondered why this seemed to complicate things. She always saw the tint of red on Sonny’s face when Pete entered the room, and she always saw how Pete would find any excuse to visit Sonny during working hours, typically leaving without buying anything or having any real reason to have gone. Now, Sonny excused himself when Pete came to visit, and Pete woke up early and went to paint alone. It was absurd.

And, while Nina was a good observer, she was not a good fixer, so she distracted herself. She helped Vanessa plan for their engagement party. She gossiped with Daniela and Carla on a daily basis. She chatted with friends from college. Whatever she could do to separate herself from this mess.

Still, though, she worried about those boys. The hopeless romantic inside of her knew that they would have to make this work.

__________________________

Sonny was, as well, making an effort to distract himself. His conversation with Benny enlightened him, but perhaps in the wrong ways. He didn’t want to tell anybody else. He didn’t want to stir up drama, nor did he want to have to face heartbreak between himself and Pete. He was sure that their affair had been only a one-night event, and that Graffiti Pete had no true feelings for him, and Sonny was actively telling himself that it didn’t matter. It certainly did matter, but he was lying to himself.

Today, he’d done as he had the day before—arrived early to the bodega, served up coffee, took out the trash, pretended that everything was fine.

He knew Usnavi was worried. He knew that everybody had taken notice at his change of demeanor, but he didn’t care.

At the moment, he was sitting near a coffee table with the lovestruck, dreamy-eyed Vanessa and Usnavi, Benny, and Nina. Engagement party planning, From what he could gather, it wouldn’t be a huge event. They’d just hang out and party here, in the bodega, but they’d decorate and buy expensive alcohol. He wasn’t in the mood for festivities, but he wasn’t going to suck the excitement out of them deliberately.

He really didn’t know what to add to the conversation, so he sat in silence as they chatted about decorations and invitations and presents. He caught Pete’s eyes for a few seconds when he came inside for a cold bottle of coke. Neither of them said a thing. After a few seconds of uncomfortable eye contact, Graffiti Pete motioned for Sonny to follow, and he obliged.

___________________

“We gotta talk.”

Graffiti Pete was sitting across from Sonny, who was leaning on the grate, staring him down with his eyebrows raised and head lolling to one side. 

“About?” Sonny looked like he didn’t want to cooperate. He looked sad, maybe a bit skittish.

“Don’t be stupid. We both know you ain’t stupid.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk about it. What’s the point?” He snapped fiddling with his hoodie strings. This was a habit of his, one that Pete only ever saw him do when he engaged in bashful, flirty conversation with pretty girls who come and go about the barrio.

“You gotta talk about it because you’re completely blowing me off and I don’t like it, so tell me what the problem is.” He snapped back, furrowing his brows indignantly.

“There’s nothing to talk about, alright? It’s not a big deal.” Sonny did his best to look reassuring to cover his lie. Of course it was a big deal, they both knew it. 

“Alright, fine. It’s no big deal.” Graffiti Pete repeated softly, looking defeated. “I gotta go.”

“Me too.” 

Sonny escaped back into the bodega through the back door. Graffiti Pete stood up and turned around, making his way to the salon.  
___________________

Vanessa didn’t expect to see Graffiti Pete show up at the salon, looking hopeless and sad and relatively confused. She also didn’t expect a confirmation of his affair with Sonny, but there he was, pouring his heart out to a group of girls he hit on all-too-frequently before this turn of events.

“I don’t know what to do, ladies. He hasn’t spoken a word to me until this morning, and he’s actin’ like it’s no big deal, but it is, right? He wouldn’t be throwin’ a hissy fit about it if it wasn’t a big deal.”

He was right, it was a big deal. Those two used to be joined at the hip, and it was undeniably saddening that their could-be relationship could fall apart due to this small misunderstanding.

“So, what do I do?”

Graffiti Pete looked incredibly uncomfortable, sitting there and tapping his fingers on his knees. He wasn’t making eye contact with them. She figured that confiding in others was abnormal for him—especially on a topic such as this. He probably had no idea who to turn to or trust with a confession of his sexuality—certainly not his catholic family, or his siblings that had all branched across the country, far out of reach. Vanessa felt humbled that he trusted herself and the other girls enough to come talk to them, and she figured that the least they could do was offer some advice.

“You’ve gotta look at it from Sonny’s point of view. He’s probably confused. Maybe he just needs space.” Daniela said softly, looking up from scrubbing some combs.

“But I can’t handle ‘space’! I miss him. And he’s ignoring me. And it’s pissing me off.” He responded indignantly.

“I dunno, Pete. You were being kinda impetuous that night. You shoulda thought it through.” Nina said, chuckling. She was sitting next to Vanessa on a loveseat.

“I couldn’t think it through, dumbass. I was drunk.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “And who the hell says ‘impetuous’? Only you, Nina. Only you.” He joked.

She smiled, and Vanessa figured she had to add something.

“You know, the problem might just be that you were drunk. Maybe he thinks it was a one-night stand, that you didn’t really mean anything by it. Maybe he’s doing his best to distance himself from you ‘cause he’s scared he’s getting attached to somebody who doesn’t care about him.” She said, resting her face on her elbows.

This appeared to make sense to Graffiti Pete, who thought about it for a few seconds before nodding.

“Well, I tried to talk to him about it, and he blew me off. I’m tryna show him that I care. He just ain’t letting me.” He muttered, sighing heftily.

“Just find a different way to show him! Pete, you haven’t gone to college like Miss Nina, but you’re still a smart guy. Figure something out.” Carla said, speaking for the first time now. Her voice was so sweet. Graffiti Pete smiled and chuckled.

“Wish it was that easy. This kid is a tough nut to crack. Not in bed, though. In that case, he’s pretty easy.”

Laughing, Nina shook her head, rolling her eyes in imitation of him.

“Damn, Pete, don’t you have a boy to be wooing? Go do your job.” She scolded jokingly.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I gotta go. Thanks for the lecture, ladies.” He smiled once again before standing up, pulling his pants up his waist.

“Thanks for the lecture, ladies. Have the best day. I gotta get to work.” He said, turning to leave the salon. They all looked at eachother for a few seconds and smiled. They were all thinking the same thing.

Now, they could only have patience and faith.  
__________________________  
Usnavi was increasingly concerned with the current situation, though he remained oblivious to what had caused the tension between his cousin and his cousin’s punk-ass best friend (whom he still didn’t like). He refused to worry himself, though. He had an engagement party to plan, and a beautiful to-be wife to hang around all the time. 

For now, he ignored it. He let Graffiti Pete off in regards to painting on his last clear wall. Maybe that was just how he expressed his emotion, and soon enough, they would find a way to make up. For now, though, he wouldn’t get involved. He didn’t want to get caught up in their drama. He loved Sonny with all his heart, but he would only do something if the kid explicitly asked for advice, which he was about to do.

“Usnavi.”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Usnavi looked up to lock eyes with an oddly calm-and-collected Sonny, who was sitting at the table not too far from his counter.

“Say you meet a metaphorical girl, and you don’t know if that girl likes you, but you want to know. What do you do?” He asked, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

He was confused. What did this have to do with Graffiti Pete?

“I guess I’d just ask. No point in sitting around and wondering.” He said simply, shrugging.  
Sonny didn’t appear to like that answer.  
“But what if you don’t want to ask?” He pressed, seeming slightly irritated.  
“Well, your loss, then, I guess.” He said, more confused by the second.  
Sonny sighed.  
“Okay, whatever.” He muttered burying his face in his arms on the table.  
Usnavi didn’t know what else to say.  
______________________


End file.
